


Spirit of the Season

by TelepathJeneral



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8879506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TelepathJeneral/pseuds/TelepathJeneral
Summary: Organizations are so hard to understand. So many people, and all this talk about "holidays"-it can be confusing. But if someone makes an effort, maybe the holiday would be a little more worth it.





	

The apartment was just so _cold_ , was the problem. Heat, she could deal with. But she’d never gotten used to the cold, and now she sat in darkness and considered what Overwatch would do if they found her frozen in the apartment they’d given her.

She wasn’t _morbid,_ really. She just understood how things worked. A place for everything, and everything in its place. The fact was, if she didn’t change something, her circulation wouldn’t be enough to keep her hands and feet comfortable, and the night would be even more disappointing. Standing, Satya Vaswani stretched her arms out, closing her eyes to concentrate on the movements before stretching the joints in her left hand. The machinery would never falter, she knew, but was good to articulate the gyros every now and then. Twisting her arm, she slowly traced a lazy circle on the floor, letting the smooth movements stretch the different muscles in her back, her arm, and her abdomen.

“Symmetra.” That’s what they’d called her. Overwatch hadn’t seen fit to choose another agent name, at least not yet, and so she retained this piece of Vishkar. Her arm, her name, her abilities-it all came from Vishkar. Even with her arm the way it was, the fact that she herself was ‘asymmetric’, everyone found “Symmetra” the best possible moniker. Ridiculous, really. But she’d given up on trying to understand everyone else.

She extended one foot, bending to lean over her leg, then stood tall again to turn her head to the ceiling. With her left hand, she rotated her wrist slowly, allowing light to gather in her palm before sketching ribbons of light through the air.

Lights were always beautiful. Always perfect, always pristine. She could never dance like the other children, their rough cavorting and wild movements in the streets as the priests and holy men clapped, and so she’d hid in the shadows. But to touch the light, to be able to grasp it and pull it to herself-well, at the very least, she’d taught herself how to dance. Or maybe the light had done that. Like the gentle sparkling of dust motes, and the twinkling of the stars. It was all dancing, wasn’t it? Satya just translated the light into movement, the light into _reality_ , and let it do the talking. Everyone seemed to understand the light so much better, anyway.

But she was alone now, and she could dance. And the light could dance with her. In the darkness of the apartment, her hand shone with a beautiful aqua glow, bathing her in the color. She could faintly hear the echoes of music from the streets far below, new generations of children laughing and dancing, and allowed herself a small smile as she spun.

Her hands moved in concert with the light, forming it into stars and flakes and sparkling points, scattered through her living room like constellations in an ever-widening galaxy. She didn’t need music to dance. Music was overrated. But even without looking, she could see the lights in her head, letting them lead her, and wrapped herself in the glorious glow as she followed them to their crescendo.

A knock on her door interrupted her, her smile fading as she moved to open the door. Though clothed in a comfortable sweater and some decent slacks, the chill still hit her as she opened it, and the shock of her visitors only made the surprise even worse.

“Symmetra, hey.”

“Hi, Satya!”

The contrast was remarkable. Lucio, the rebel, the little frog-man who was _never_ happy to see her, and Hana, the always-bubbly pilot who never left her alone. She knew she was the only one Lucio outright disliked within Overwatch, and she found Hana difficult to understand-more so than usual. Though not in their official uniforms, she found that Hana still had an affinity for pinks and purples, while Lucio’s greens and yellows had been traded for a more muted blue coat. The effect on him was nice, in an aesthetic sense.

“I haven’t missed a report.” Satya responded curtly, coming to only one conclusion for their visit. “We’ve been given this time for celebration, haven’t we? Leave me to celebrate in my way.”

“Listen, Symmetra-“

“Winston sent us, yes, but I wanted to come. I, well. I made Lucio come, too, but we wanted to see you. To make sure you were okay.” Despite Satya’s presence in the doorway, Hana moved forward, letting herself into the apartment in order to smile brightly. “We knew you’d be fine, really. But there weren’t any agents nearby.”

“I’m an agent. Agents function perfectly well independently of their organization.” Honestly, if she’d had _any_ say as to how this organization had been set up, they’d all be much more confident in their own positions. Vishkar had known what they were doing. But Overwatch prized “cooperation”.

“But everyone’s up at the European base, and even Mei stayed in Norway-people have been traveling, sure, but there’s hardly anyone in Asia.”

“Technically, the Shimada should be your foothold here.”

“So I volunteered, and I made Lucio come, and since I was going home anyway, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Hana’s smile never faltered, and she nodded eagerly before looking to Lucio. “Well? C’mon!”

Lucio had remained in the doorway, his gaze moving past Satya and towards her main room. Satya narrowed her brows, unsure of his intention, but he managed to nod silently before looking back to her.

“You made all that?”

Turning, Satya realized that she hadn’t dismantled the light constructs, and her entire living room remained swathed in the sparkling glow. With a dismissive click of her tongue, she reached up to gather back the light, but Lucio moved forward to stop her.

“No! I mean-it’s beautiful. Really.”

“Only fools must state the obvious in order to understand it.” Satya turned away from him sharply, resigned to this ‘visit’ in only the most marginal sense.

“Satya?” That was Hana again, her voice quiet. “You could have stayed at the base, if you wanted. Everyone would have loved to see this. We already knew you had talent, but this-this isn’t just turrets and barriers and bridges, this is _art_. Do you always do this?”

“As I said, agents function perfectly well independently of their overseers. There was no need for me to stay ‘at the base’.”

“But what if we wanted you to stay?” Hana had moved back into Satya’s field of vision, watching her closely. Outside of their uniforms, and Hana’s mech, Satya was the tallest of the three, and Hana watched her like the expectant child she was. “We thought maybe-unless-“

“Say it, child.”

“I’m not-“ Hana stomped one foot (exactly like a child, Satya thought) and clenched her fists, frustrated by her own speech. “I thought you had family, or people you wanted to see, but you’re just here alone in this apartment, and I would have loved to see all this-this light, these things, all the time! And you-we could have-“

“You have fond memories of the holidays, I see.” Satya couldn’t keep the derision from her tone, but her features softened as she studied the girl. “You wanted it to be a time for everyone to come together.”

“Yes! It’s not about this, either-“ Hana waved to the light constructs. “I wanted to see you!”

“And Lucio?”

“I wanted to prove to him that you’re not ‘Symmetra’ anymore. I mean, you are, but-“

“I’m no longer allied with the people who destroyed his home.” Her tone was bland enough, but she knew even that would be enough to anger the Brazilian. Such wild, unchecked emotion. _That_ was why she’d never liked him.

“I know it’s not easy, and I don’t expect you two to become best friends, but-“

“Hana, it’s not like I can just forget.” Lucio again, interjecting. “Maybe she can just shut it out like putting away socks, or something, but-“

“Ugh!” Hana turned, taking something from Lucio’s arms before setting it on the coffee table in the middle of the room. “Fine. I’m the idiot for expecting too much of you, and I’m a busybody for interrupting _you_ ­-“ A gesture to Satya, Hana’s emotion getting the better of her. “-in your lonely little pity party!”

“I don’t pity myself. I prefer the isolation.”

“She doesn’t even want us here.” Lucio folded his arms, eyeing Satya warily.

“And neither of you see a problem with this? With just cutting yourselves off from this, from-“ Hana shook her head again, finally meeting Satya’s eyes. Satya was surprised to see tears forming in Hana’s eyes, the light refracted a thousand times in the liquid, and reached up to hold Hana’s chin in order to study the glimmer.

“You feel too much, Hana.”

“I just want you to be happy! For you both to be happy with the way things are.” Hana pushed Satya’s hand away, taking a step back. “Maybe-I mean, maybe you are happy. I guess. But you still need people, even a little bit, and I want to…I wanted to help.”

Satya opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated as she considered Hana’s words. The girl wasn’t _trying_ to be nosy, or disruptive-she just thought that holidays had a specific purpose. And that Satya was missing something. And she’d not only gotten a gift, and made a significant detour, but she’d dragged _Lucio_ into this with some sort of aim towards reconciliation. She truly believed that human idealism and goodwill could do that much.

The Vishkar employees had never exactly been warm. After Satya had rebuffed them once or twice, they’d learned to keep their distance. Sure, the corporation gave her a nice bonus for the holiday, but she’d never gone to the parties, never accepted the presents. Maybe there was a card, once or twice, with some sterile signatures from the CEO and her manager, but no one like this. No one with Hana’s blind, childlike determination and…faith.

Maybe Overwatch and Vishkar had their differences, after all.

“Thank you, Hana. And you, Lucio.” Satya nodded, facing Lucio again. “I’m glad you like the constructs. They’re especially beautiful in the dark.”

“I, um. Sure. And you can get up and walk through them, like you’re swimming in stars. I think it’s amazing.” Look at that, the boy _could_ be civil. Satya forced a smile, accepting the compliment.

“Perhaps I’ll draw up some new blueprints over the holiday. There’s quite a lot that can be done with the constructs.” Taking a step toward Hana, Satya reached out one hand-her right hand-to gently touch Hana’s shoulder. “I appreciate your effort. I…recognize how much this must mean for you. Lucio and I might not reconcile immediately, or ever, but I still appreciate your attempt. Please don’t be angry with us.”

“I’m not angry at you, I just…I like you both. And. Well. I won’t repeat myself.” Hana shrugged, but managed a smile. “We do worry about you. And think about you. It’s nice to be able to work with you.”

“You pay too many compliments for your own good, Hana.” Satya considered her a moment longer, releasing her at last. “I do enjoy my privacy and independence. But…perhaps there is something to be said for organizations and groups. Thank you for coming by.”

“Yeah. No problem.” Hana’s smile strengthened, and she hesitated a moment longer before raising a hand to wave. “We’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Of course.”

“Merry Christmas, Sy-Satya.” Lucio waved as Hana came to join him, turning toward the door. “See you back for the New Year?”

“Certainly.” Satya found herself smiling genuinely now, waving to the duo as they closed the door behind them. She waited a moment longer, processing the encounter, then moved to lock the door again and study the gift they’d left. She turned on the overhead light, summing the constructs back to her hand, and leaned down to open the bag before noticing the card.

The envelope was simple enough, but Satya opened it to find a card covered in red and green ink, curlicues and swirls offering a festive greeting. Inside, she read the well-wishes from Hana and the signature from Lucio, but also took the time to study the notes from Angela, Reinhardt, Genji-actually, most of the team, at least those stationed at the Gibraltar base for the season. Propping the card open, she set it on her table and sat to begin spinning another construct, sketching out the lines of a tree, then lights, and an ornate star on the top.

Maybe she could go out later, just for a little bit. It would be nice to see the city again. And when she went back for the New Year, well, she’d have to find a good blueprint to show Lucio. Even if he only appreciated the constructs for their own sake, at least he could recognize beauty.

And for Hana’s sake, she could try. Overwatch was here to stay, now. Maybe an organization with this kind of closeness…could be a very, very good thing.

 


End file.
